


Kindly

by INMH



Series: Merry Month of Masturbation Fills (2018) [1]
Category: BioShock
Genre: Dark, Dirty Talk, Drama, Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M, Masturbation, Mid-Canon, Mind Control, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Content, Strong Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-25 15:28:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14381568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/INMH/pseuds/INMH
Summary: Jack sleeps, and Atlas abuses his power.





	Kindly

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like this has probably been done before but WHY THE FUCK NOT i have thirty days to write for and Atlas is a creepy motherfucker, the opportunities are MANY in this game

“ _Take a rest, lad. I’ll keep watch over the camera and make sure nothin’ bothers you._ ”  
  
_Rest_.  
  
God, rest sounded good.  
  
Jack laid gingerly down on the bed, body stiff and aching. He hadn’t had a chance to really sit down and relax since the plane. He shut his eyes, and the green light of the hacked camera was only a brief annoyance before he managed to drift off into something resembling sleep.  
  
Everything faded away- the Splicers, Andrew Ryan, the Big Daddies and the Little Sisters, the city under the sea, all disappeared from his mind and memory in sleep.  
  
The anxiety and fear dissipated.  
  
Jack didn’t dream.  
  
And then, after some time, a soft, familiar voice cooed into his ear:  
  
“ _Would you kindly not wake up?_ ”  
  
Jack didn’t.  
  
But his ears still worked, the way you can still hear a radio or a TV in your sleep and incorporate the words into a dream. And as long as Jack could hear, his peculiarly wired brain could give his body instructions.  
  
“ _Good boy,_ ” The voice drawls. “ _You know, I was thinking you’d be an ugly sonofabitch given who your da is, but I have to say, I’m impressed. Maybe later we can have a bit o’ fun with each other. For now, though, I’m so **very** curious: Would you **kindly** put your hand down your pants and touch your cock? Preferably not the plasmid hand- You don’t want to know how many **accidents** happened because idiots decided to get hot and heavy while on plasmids._ ”  
  
Were Jack awake he might have noticed that the familiar voice- namely, its familiar _accent_ \- didn’t seem quite as consistent as it had before. He might also have noticed that the camera was no longer pointed to the barricaded door of the apartment, but rather directly at the bed where he was lying.  
  
But Jack wasn’t awake, even if his brain was still working, and so his right hand slowly, clumsily worked open his belt and slid into his pants, gripping his cock as instructed, no more, no less.  
  
“ _Fuck, I guess I need more detail. I want you to get yourself off, boyo. Stroke your cock. Squeeze it. And for fuck’s sake, pull your pants down, I can’t see shit from here._ ”  
  
Jack pushed down his pants with one hand and started stroking himself with the other. All the while, his conscious mind stayed trapped in that dreaming state where he felt vague pulses of pleasure, but was not aware enough to understand where they were coming from or why they were happening.  
  
“ _Right… Right, that’s better._ ” The voice was huskier now. “ _Fuck, boy. Now I’m **really** tempted. I’ve no preference for men or women, but there was always something **fun** about fucking men in particular: They were always so bloody ashamed to be taking a cock up their ass, and there’s no greater bit of blackmail than threatening to tell some poor bastard’s wife that I fucked him behind some crates at the fishery._ ”  
  
Jack had no sexual experience to speak of, but his mind pulled up stock images, pictures of men he’d seen in the past and editing them until he could cobble together a scene of two men having sex- and awake or not, he found the scene surprisingly titillating and his body responded accordingly.  
  
“ _And I won’t lie, I can’t think of anything **better** than Andrew Ryan watching me plow his son’s ass- would you kindly forget that I just told you that? Wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise later._ ”  
  
And Jack promptly forgot, stowing the information away in the back of his mind so that he couldn’t recall it later when he woke up.  
  
“ _I almost don’t want to send you Cohen’s way- if that lunatic has his way he’ll get you into bed, and **I** want to be the one to have you first. I doubt you had a chance to take anything up the ass in your two years topside_.” A dark chuckle followed the words. “ _God, I **hope** you haven’t. There’s a **look** men get on their faces when they get fucked the first time, and another when they realize how good it is to have a finger or a cock rubbing their prostate, and good **lord** I want to see your face when it happens._ ”  
  
Jack’s cock was properly hard now, and he whimpered as pressure started to build up in his groin. He barely scraped the land of consciousness, the stimulation disturbing him, but the conditioning won-out: Jack did not wake up. Or at least, his mind refused to consciously process what was happening. But his fantasies became more heated, and he pictured himself lying face-down on a bed with a man, a man with dark hair and light eyes like the small, old picture on the strange Rapture radio. He imagined hands on his back and hips, and lips on his neck.  
  
“ _Oh **fuck** , lad,_” The voice groaned, “ _I’m going to do all sorts of things to you, you don’t even know._ ”  
  
Jack shuddered, rocking into his hand, and when he came it was almost like going into complete unconsciousness for a moment; the fantasies ceased, and there was only darkness and a residual sort of pleasure, his brain and body rewarded with nice chemicals for achieving what ought to have been a reproductive activity. He drifted in that darkness for a time- a few minutes, a few hours, a few days, a few years, time was irrelevant in this state, even less relevant in this glass Hell at the bottom of the sea.  
  
Finally, a voice echoed through the darkness, reaching Jack’s brain even if it wasn’t full switched on:  
  
“ _Would you kindly tell yourself that this was just a dream? Would you kindly not ask me if it was real? Would you kindly wonder what sort of sick fuck you are, dreaming about this sort of shit?_ ”  
  
And Jack did.  
  
-End


End file.
